


Judge and Executioner

by End_Transmission



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Innuendo, No Fluff, Rated For Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission
Summary: Standing on the razor's edge between salvation and ruination, White has to make a choice.
Relationships: Cyan & White (Among Us), Cyan/Red (Among Us)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56





	Judge and Executioner

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for brief descriptions of blood and gore. Although I see them as being the same characters in general, this oneshot has no canonical bearing on any of my other Among Us fics.

The top of the table was scratched to hell and back, and White wondered how they'd never noticed it before. Had it always been that way? Was it wear and tear from this very voyage - scratched from tray after tray of crewmate meals? That mark in the paint - had Lime caused that? She'd always liked to smack surfaces in a fit of laughter or faux outrage. Or maybe it'd been poor Yellow, accidentally setting their tray down too harshly and hoping more than anything that no one saw the dent they'd left. 

A tapping on the table pulled White from their stupor. They looked up, and met the eyes of their two remaining crewmates. Or, as it stood, one remaining crewmate and then the  _ other.  _ The  _ Impostor.  _ One of the two men sitting in front of White was inhuman - a monster and a murderer who had already killed most of the rest of the crew. Cyan, or Brown - but White didn't know which one it was. Both looked as human as ever - Cyan was haughty in the face of Brown's apparent fear, but those traits were just part of who they  _ were.  _ It answered nothing for White, who had somehow found themself in the position to be judge and executioner. They were the final say - either Cyan or Brown would jump at the chance to force the other out the airlock. White's choice would free them and their final crewmate from the jaws of death. 

Or guarantee their own trip directly into them. 

"He never eats anything but meat, White!" Brown exclaimed with a gesture, "nothing else!" 

That was true. White had noticed it, too. Cyan never ate vegetables, always cleaned his meat thoroughly of the sauce it was marinated in, and if he ever ate anything else it was peanuts or cashews. Although, why legumes? If it was an  _ alien  _ thing, would he have bothered with the nuts? 

"So you'd have me killed for my dietary restrictions?" Cyan shot back, "awfully callous of you, Brown. Exactly what I'd expect from an Impostor."

That was a fair point too. Sometimes people had dietary restrictions - it would be cruel to use that as justification for killing someone. White hadn't personally heard of a diet that required  _ only _ protein, but they weren't a medical expert. 

"White, you know Red and I were close," Cyan said, his voice gone smooth, "it's a bit embarrassing to bring up, but I know he mentioned it to you."

White reddened slightly. That was…also true. White could remember burying their head in their hands while Red - their friend and  _ captain  _ and one of the strongest men they knew - carried on about Cyan's biceps. It'd been more than that, too, Red had called Cyan an incredible conversationalist. They'd had many late night talks before Red's death and, if White wasn't reading too much into it, they were fairly sure Red and Cyan had had at least  _ one  _ intimate tryst. 

"Yeah, well, it makes sense that some _ thing _ mimicking being a human would also mimic human emotions," Brown retorted, "all the better to get to the captain, huh? Besides, you were awfully buddy-buddy with Black, too!" 

"I trusted Black, just like the rest of us did. You shared your MREs with him, or have you forgotten that?" Cyan shot back. 

Black…they'd all trusted Black. White themself had found the quiet man's - no, quiet  _ Impostor's  _ \- presence soothing. It still gave them goosebumps to think about. Just how close had they come to being like Lime, their guts hanging from Black's razor-sharp maw - 

"White, please," Brown interrupted their thoughts, clasping his hands together in a prayer. "It's not me - I  _ promise  _ you it's not me. We have to get Cyan off the ship - we can get back to Headquarters, warn them - warn everyone. Please. You have to believe me."

"I would never have killed Red," Cyan said, his voice low. Something caught in his throat - and he looked away, and all at once White felt their chest constrict. "We know  _ his  _ death wasn't Black's doing and I - White, I  _ loved  _ him. Hell, we'd been talking about our future. Brown's a great actor, I'll give him that, but White…I would have  _ never.  _ You knew Red. Surely you must know that."

White had known Red. They'd been friends for years, long before even becoming MIRA recruits. Red had been tough, but fair - a natural born leader. Confident. Well-mannered. Never, in all those years, had White seen Red so enamored with any one person. Reading people was what Red had been good at, and if he were in White's position, they had no doubt who he would choose to believe. White's eyes went to Brown, who immediately paled under their gaze. 

"Red loved Cyan," White said softly, "they were building a future together." 

"White, please -" 

White closed their eyes tightly, their hands curling into fists on top of the table. They thought about Red, and Yellow, and all the others who the Impostors had murdered. Their  _ friends.  _ Their  _ comrades.  _ Cyan would never have killed Red and, so, that only left Brown. No matter how he pleaded, or begged, or how terrified he looked. 

"You killed them," White hissed through their teeth, "my  _ crew."  _ They stood, letting their eyes snap open into a glare, aimed right at Brown. "You  _ killed  _ them! Stop trying to trick me, it's not going to work. Cyan, help me with him!" 

"Of course," Cyan agreed, getting to his feet as well. The two worked together to grab Brown - and White tried desperately not to think about how little Brown was fighting. The man begged, and kicked, and cried - but there were no teeth or claws or tentacles. For a second, White hesitated but - no. They forced themself to remember Red - his spine pulled clean from his body, his eyes nowhere to be found, his face frozen in absolute terror. 

When they shoved Brown into the airlock, the man collapsed to the ground, all of the fight leaving him entirely. He looked over his shoulder, and for a moment he and White locked eyes. The terror there seemed so  _ real,  _ so absolute that White was second guessing themself - had nearly opened their mouth to stop the whole operation. 

Then, Brown was gone, swept into the vast abyss of space. It would be quick. It was always quick. By the time his body passed the massive window of Navigations, it'd be frozen solid. Brown would be dead. The threat was gone - they were saved. 

So why couldn't White move? 

Their heart was pounding in their ears, and they couldn't rip their eyes away from the rushing void of space behind the airlock doors. It'd been Brown. It  _ had  _ to be Brown. Because it was him or Cyan and no one could do  _ that  _ to someone they loved, right? 

Right? 

Hands latched onto White's shoulders and they sucked in a quick and painful breath. They heard Cyan exhale, and then chuckle, and all at once White knew they'd made the wrong choice. They'd sent an innocent to their death - had  _ murdered  _ their crewmate - and had trapped themself with a monster in return. 

"Thank you, White," Cyan said, his hands gripping tight onto White's shoulders. It hurt - something was  _ piercing  _ them, stabbing deep as Cyan tightened his hold. White's heart gave a single, painful thud - something was wrapping around their throat. Their waist. It was cutting into them, and unbidden they remembered the way Purple had been bisected. 

White had been wrong. So, so wrong - and now it was too late. Too late. 

"For Red's sake," Cyan continued, his voice so low White had to strain to hear it - there was something inhuman there that rumbled beneath the timbre. 

"I'll make it quick."


End file.
